THE BRIDE-ELECT.
She stands up her full height,
With her rich dress flowing round her,
And her eyes as fixed and bright
As the diamond stars that crown her,--
An awful, beautiful sight.
Beautiful? Yes, with her hair
So wild and her cheeks so flushed!
Awful? Yes, for there
In her beauty she stands hushed
By the pomp of her own despair.
--_Meredith_.
Judge Merlin walked about, reasoning with himself all day; but he could
not walk off his depression of spirits, or reason away his misgivings.
He returned home in time to dress for dinner. He crept up to his chamber
with a wearied and stealthy air, for he was still dispirited and
desirous of avoiding a meeting with his daughter.
He made his toilet and then sat down, resolved not to leave his chamber
until the dinner-bell rang, so that he should run no risk of seeing her
until he met her at dinner, where of course no allusion would be made to
the event of the morning.
He took up the evening paper, that lay upon the dressing-table by some
chance, and tried to read. But the words conveyed no meaning to his
mind.
"She is all I have in this world!" he sighed as he laid the paper down.
"Papa!"
He looked up.
There she stood within his chamber door! It was an unprecedented
intrusion. There she stood in her rich evening dress of purple
moire-antique, with the bandeau of diamonds encircling her night-black
hair. Two crimson spots like the flush of hectic fever burned in her
cheeks, and her eyes were unnaturally bright and wild, almost like those
of insanity.
"Papa, may I come to you? Oh, papa, I have been waiting to speak to you
all day; and it seems to me as if you had purposely kept out of my way.
Are you displeased, papa? May I come to you now?"
He opened his arms, and she came and threw herself upon his bosom,
sobbing as if her heart would break.
"What is the matter, my darling?"
"Are you displeased, papa?"
"No, no, my darling! Why should I be? How could I be so unreasonable?
But--do you love him, Claudia?"
"He will be an earl, papa."
"Are you happy, Claudia?"
"I shall be a countess, papa!"
"But--are you happy, my dear, I ask you."
"Happy? Who is? Who ever was?"
"Your mother and myself were happy, very happy during the ten blessed
years of our union. But then we loved each other, Claudia. Do you love
this man whom you are about to make your husband?"
"Papa, I have consented to be his wife. Should not that satisfy you?"
"Certainly, certainly, my child! Besides, it is not for my rough,
masculine hand to probe your heart. Your mother might do it if she were
living, but not myself."
"Papa, bless me! it was for that I came to you. Oh, give me your
blessing before I go downstairs to--him, whom I must henceforth meet as
my promised husband."
"May the Lord bless and save you, my poor, motherless girl!" he said,
laying his hand on her bowed head.
And she arose, and without another word went below stairs.
When she entered the drawing room she found the viscount there alone. He
hastened to meet her with gallant alacrity and pressed his lips to hers,
but at their touch the color fled from her face and did not return. With
attentive courtesy Lord Vincent handed her to a seat and remained
standing near, seeking to interest and amuse her with his conversation.
But just as the tête-à-tête was growing unsupportable to Claudia, the
door opened and Beatrice entered. Too many times had Bee come in upon
just such a tête-à-tête to suspect that there was anything more in this
one than there had been in any other for the last six months. So,
unconscious of the recent betrothal of this pair, she, smiling, accepted
the chair the viscount placed for her, and readily followed Claudia's
lead, by allowing herself to be drawn into conversation. Several times
she looked up at Claudia's face, noticing its marble whiteness; but at
length concluded that it must be only the effect of late hours, and so
dropped the subject from her mind.
Presently the other members of the family dropped in and the dinner was
served.
One vacant chair at the table attracted general attention. But, ah! to
one there that seat was not vacant; it was filled with the specter of
her murdered truth.
"Where is Mr. Worth?" inquired Mrs. Middleton, from the head of the
table.
"Oh! worked himself into a nervous headache over Allenby's complicated
brief! I told him how it would be if he applied himself so
unintermittingly to business; but he would take no warning. Well, these
young enthusiasts must learn by painful experience to modify their
zeal," said the judge, in explanation.
Everyone expressed regret except Claudia, who understood and felt how
much worse than any headache was the heart-sickness that had for the time
mastered even Ishmael's great strength; but she durst utter no word of
sympathy. And the dinner proceeded to its conclusion. And directly after
the coffee was served the viscount departed.
Meanwhile Ishmael lay extended upon his bed, clasping his temples and
waging a silent war with his emotions.
A rap disturbed him.
"Come in."
Powers entered with a tea tray in his hands, upon which was neatly
arranged a little silver tea-service, with a transparent white cup,
saucer, and plate. The wax candle in its little silver candlestick that
sat upon the tray was the only light, and scarcely served to show the
room.
Ishmael raised himself up just as Powers sat the tray upon the stand
beside the bed.
"Who has had leisure to think of me this evening?" thought Ishmael, as
he contemplated this unexpected attention. Then, speaking aloud, he
inquired:
"Who sent me these, Powers?"
"Miss Middleton, sir; and she bade me to say to you that you must try to
eat; and that it is a great mistake to fast when one has a nervous
headache, brought on by fatigue and excitement; and that the next best
thing to rest is food, and both together are a cure," replied the man,
carefully arranging the service on the stand.
"I might have known it," thought Ishmael, with an undefined feeling of
self-reproach. "I might have known that she would not forget me, even
though I forgot myself. What would my life be at home without this dear
little sister? Sweet sister! dear sister! Yes, I will follow her advice;
I will eat and drink for her sake, because I know she will question
Powers and be disappointed if she finds that I have not done justice to
this repast."
"Will you have more light, sir?" asked the footman.
"No, no, thank you," replied Ishmael, rising and seating himself in a
chair beside the stand.
The tea was strong and fragrant, the cream rich, the sugar crystalline,
and a single cup of the beverage refreshed him. The toast was crisp and
yellow, the butter fresh, and the shavings of chipped beef crimson and
tender. And so, despite his heartache and headache, Ishmael found his
healthy and youthful appetite stimulated by all this. And the meal that
was begun for Bee's sake was finished for his own.
"Tour head is better now, I hope, sir?" respectfully inquired Powers, as
he prepared to remove the service.
"Much, thank you. Tell Miss Middleton so, with my respects, and say how
grateful I feel to her for this kind attention."
"Yes, sir."
"And, Powers, you may bring me lights now."
And a few minutes later, when Powers had returned with two lighted
candles and placed them on the table, Ishmael, who knew that not an over
tasked brain, but an undisciplined heart, was the secret of his malady,
set himself to work as to a severe discipline, and worked away for three
or four hours with great advantage; for, when at twelve o'clock he
retired to bed, he fell asleep and slept soundly until morning.
That is what work did for Ishmael. And work will do as much for anyone
who will try it.
It is true in the morning he awoke to a new sense of woe; but the day
had also its work to discipline him. He breakfasted with Bee and her
father and the judge, who were the only members of the family present at
the table; and then he went to the City Hall, where he had an
appointment with the District Attorney.
That morning the engagement between Lord Vincent and Claudia was
formally announced to the family circle. And Bee understood the secret
of Ishmael's sudden illness. The marriage was appointed to take place on
the first of the ensuing month, and so the preparations for the event
were at once commenced.
Mrs. Middleton and Claudia went to New York to order the wedding outfit.
They were gone a week, and when they returned Claudia, though much
thinner in flesh, seemed to have recovered the gloom that had been
frightened away by the viscount's first kiss.
The great responsibility of the home preparations fell upon Bee. The
house had to be prepared for visitors; not only for the wedding guests;
but also for friends and relatives of the family, who were coming from a
distance and would remain for several days. For the last mentioned, new
rooms had to be made ready. And all this was to be done under the
immediate supervision of Beatrice.
As on two former occasions, Miss Merlin called in the aid of her three
favorite ministers--Vourienne, Devizae, and Dureezie.
On the morning of the last day of June Vourienne and his assistants
decorated the dining room. On the evening of the same day Devizae and
his waiters laid the table for the wedding breakfast. And then the room
was closed up until the next day. While the family took their meals in
their small breakfast room.
During the evening relatives from a distance arrived and were received
by Bee, who conducted them to their rooms.
By this inroad of visitors Bee herself, with the little sister who
shared her bed, were driven up into the attic to the plain spare room
next to Ishmael's own. Here, early in the evening, as he sat at his
work, he could hear Bee, who would not neglect little Lu for anything
else in the world, rocking and singing her to sleep. And Ishmael, too,
who had just laid down his pen because the waning light no longer
enabled him to write, felt his great trouble soothed by Bee's song.